


emptiness

by OliveYou



Category: Original Work
Genre: Melancholy, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 04:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12499120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliveYou/pseuds/OliveYou
Summary: sometimes I get a feeling and I tried to put it into words





	emptiness

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes I get a feeling and I tried to put it into words

Reading is her pastime, and it goes like this: immerse yourself in a few thousand words, watch the minutes go by, and read.

Just read. Think about love and life and loss. Taste tears and laughter and feel a million miles away, even if just for a moment. Sometimes, just looking at a well-worded sentence brings up feelings of bittersweet sadness that rises in her chest and yet, she wants more. She's never felt so happy and yet so empty at the same time.

She searches for meaning in small places, pages online of bookmarks and gifts. If you search hard enough, something will be there. Waiting for you, as always.

Her computer is a bad thing. She knows, she knows the feeling of the void, of depression that comes by screen-watching and little black words that swim. But she wants more. More of everything, of characters that are familiar and fluent on her tongue, that she can always turn to when things get rough. She wants them, and they beckon.

She distances herself, a lot of the time, because sometimes the pages overwhelm her and she feels like crying, like falling away. Like her heart is not hers, stolen by delicate phrases and feelings.

Bittersweet, always bittersweet. Is there a way to block out the bitter and enjoy only the immersion? She's never known anything different than what she's been given. It only ever tastes heavy, on her heart and on her mind while time ticks away.

She will, later, begin to cheer up and think of happier things, but right now her heart twists and she stares blankly at the wall. White is the color of the paper; black the color of the words. The meaning they display is never black-and-white, but the blank background reflects her mood. Blank. Staring at a screen. Her homework sits like a dark spot on the carpet, but only with effort can she clean it away. It is much easier to sit and read instead of work and think. That is her problem. Thinking.

Thinking, instead of working, requires a different kind of energy. Right now, everything is too much for her. Changes, changes, changes. She only wants to sleep and wake up happy; why won't she? It is all too much.

Some books are light, easy reading that does not weigh much and does not take much time either. Others delve deep, separate the happy from the thoughts that so often take her over and make her feel. Emptiness, yet not empty yet.

She wonders if running away would work. If she avoided, she would be happy, but the words are enticing and she loves to be whisked away. In her dreams, she is never worried. She is only peaceful.

Peace. A feeling of peace. Where does it come from? Contentment, maybe. She must try to feel content.

She is never content. That is human nature, to feel want. Wanting something more, a purpose, one bigger than the small life she lives and small people inside her bubble. Even if she immerses herself in languages and words from miles and miles away, she is still trapped.

Sometimes, she just wants to run. Run away from the sadness and crushing weights of life. Is death peaceful? She thinks, sometimes, of the dead. It might not be so nice to be dead, because then you could not think. But at least you would be unaware of the things yet to come, because they do not come for you, but for the living.

That is a cold, dark subject. Death is bitter, not sweet. She would much rather take the bittersweet and read out her thoughts.

Read. She reads words, little black words on a white, blank screen. Despite their size, they carry heavy thoughts. Her heaviness will pass. These thoughts will stay. She reads.


End file.
